


Blue Moon

by Deos



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Friends to Lovers for a night, Kissing, Knuckle just tie Shoot up okay, M/M, Male Slash, Mutual Masturbation, Oneshot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22762801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deos/pseuds/Deos
Summary: "Don't you dare t-tell anyone," Knuckle rasped. His lips were drawn in a sneer but his eyes were glassy with pleasure, completely dispelling his threatening aura. "If you do, I'll-I'll–" his voice broke, choked in a gasp."Who would I tell?"Or: Knuckle and Shoot get close in the middle of Chimera Ant territory.
Relationships: Knuckle Bine/Shoot McMahon
Comments: 17
Kudos: 136
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Solar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarRuffian/pseuds/SolarRuffian) and [Wander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimObai/pseuds/KimObai) for betaing!

_"How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into."_

_~Sylvia Plath_

All was quiet in the forest.

Shoot scanned the horizon, two fingers of his hand curled together to form a Nen-enhanced aperture. The sun was falling, shadows unfurling across the trees like a black blanket. Soon it would be too dark to see at all.

Behind him, Knuckle heaved a deep, groaning sigh. 

Dispelling his Nen, Shoot turned back to see his partner pacing around the flat knot of the tree they were standing on in small, tight circles. 

Those sighs had become increasingly frequent in the last few hours. They'd been stationed up this tree for nearly a full day now, watching the horizon for Chimera Ant activity and waiting for word from Master Morel.

The tree was huge, not quite the highest in the forest, but with a strategic view of both the road and the trees surrounding Peijing. The boughs split at the top, forming a flat area that had knotted with age into a platform big enough to lay on. Though they'd both taken turns keeping watch, Knuckle had begun becoming increasingly distracted with each hour that passed.

"What?" he asked, opening the floor for Knuckle to air his grievances. 

It was like a dam breaking.

"This is _bullshit_ , that's what!" Knuckle snarled. "We should be doing something other than standing in this damn tree! We've been here for hours and the only thing we've seen is birds and squirrels!"

The tail of his white overcoat flapped with each tight turn, his shoulders hunched like an animal ready to attack. 

"Five million people are gonna die if we fail. You know how many that is, Shoot? That's three thousand, four hundred and seventy-two people every minute!" Knuckle's eyes were bright with unshed tears. 

Shoot let him talk. 

"Those are people with families! Mothers and fathers and siblings, and pets… dammit!" His eyes spilled over, wet tracks glowing orange in the half-light.

"I just wanna get in there and neutralize 'em!"

Shoot pinpointed the word _neutralize_ without surprise. Despite everything the Chimera Ants had done, Knuckle still wanted to preserve them. He was a Beast Hunter of the rarest kind: an ecologist.

Now that the tears were free-flowing, he sensed his friend had expended the worst of his vitriol. Shoot laid a hand on his Knuckle's shoulder, stilling his frantic pacing. 

"I know. But you know as well as I do that we have no other choice. We'll be no use to anyone if we run in headfirst and get ourselves killed. It's all riding on this attack," he said, keeping his voice level. 

Knuckle was gruff, but he had a tender heart. Obviously. He had freed the abandoned pets from every empty city they had visited, collecting a sizeable pack that now was waiting faithfully at the base of the tree. The tragedy was taking its toll on all of them, but no one felt it as strongly as he did. 

"Easy for you to say! I bet you're quaking in your sandals just thinking about facing those Ants!" Knuckle snarked, irritated. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, dashing the wetness onto his sleeve. 

It may have been the truth, but hearing it still stung. Shoot ignored the impulse to sigh and let the not-so-subtle jab roll off, chalking it up to Knuckle's frustration. "We have to trust Master Morel and the others. Don't you think they feel the same?"

Knuckle blew out a breath, but didn't answer.

"Besides, unless you have any ideas, we don't have any better alternatives."

He turned away to look to the purpling sky. Refocusing his Nen, he scanned the air one more time for any telltale winged forms but saw nothing. It was probably time to give it up for today anyway. 

A warm hand slid over his shoulder. Shoot looked back to see Knuckle, shame-faced and squirming. Knuckle really was like the strays that hounded him; his emotions were as easily read as a dog's tucked tail.

"Shit, I'm sorry Shoot. I didn't mean to take it out on you." He squeezed Shoot's shoulder, crinkling the purple fabric of his yukata.

"I'm just really – really on edge. I hate being powerless. People are dying, we haven't heard from the Chairman in days, and Gon and Killua are out there somewhere all alone! I mean, they're just kids!"

Shoot patted Knuckle's hand firmly. "Those _kids_ nearly beat us, Knuckle. They probably would have, if they'd had an extra week," he said, not without amusement.

"Yeah, yeah," Knuckle grumbled. "They're strong. But they don't have the kind of combat experience we do." 

"You worry too much."

"Not much to do up here _but_ worry."

Shoot looked around their perch. "You could sleep for a few hours if you want. Time will pass more quickly that way," he suggested. "It would be good for us to get some rest anyway, we'll need to be in top form for the fight."

Knuckle scratched the back of his neck, looking doubtfully at the wood. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll take the first watch and wake you in a few hours."

When Knuckle finally curled up on his side, Shoot breathed a soft sigh of relief. A few uninterrupted hours of silence would do wonders for his own nerves.

It wasn't even ten minutes later that Knuckle shot upright so abruptly that Shoot jumped. 

" _Rrgh_ , I can't sleep!" Knuckle complained, pounding one fist on the tree and sending a smattering of leaves fluttering to the forest floor. "My brain won't shut up!"

Trying to calm the frantic racing of his own heart, Shoot pressed a clammy hand against his cheek. Sometimes having such a volatile partner was stressful. 

"Maybe you should try again. Sometimes it takes more than ten minutes for your mind to shut down."

Knuckle shook his head vehemently. "No, my brain is going a mile a minute. I'll end up just laying there with my eyes closed!"

_Okay…_

Shoot racked his mind, looking for helpful suggestions. He himself had experience with insomnia; whenever his anxiety flared it took extra work to soothe himself to sleep. Unfortunately, given their location, most of his usual options were right out: a hot bath, a warm cup of chamomile tea or milk. 

"Have you tried counting panda frogs?"

Knuckle gave him a look like he was crazy. "What?"

"You know, close your eyes and imagine panda frogs leaping over a lily pad. Count each one slowly, to focus your mind." Shoot suggested, feeling a little embarrassed. His mother had taught him that; he thought it to be common knowledge.

"That sounds boring! If I wanted to do arithmetic to fall asleep I would!"

"Well, what do you normally do if you can't get to sleep?" Shoot asked, exasperated. 

Knuckle opened his mouth to reply, closed it, then opened it again. Nothing came out. Crossing his arms across his chest, he set his lips in a grim line and angled his head away. When he spoke it was nearly inaudible.

"What?"

Though he grumbled the answer louder, Knuckle still spoke almost directly into his overcoat, muffling his speech.

"I can't understand a word you're saying."

 _"I masturbate, okay?!"_ he yelled, loud enough to send up a chorus of concerned yips from the base of the tree. 

Shoot blinked. He really didn't know what to say to that. He thought to reassure, offer a quick _don't worry, that's perfectly normal_ – but instead what came limping out was: "Um… I-I can turn my back if you want me to." 

"No!" Now Knuckle sounded mortified. "I'm not doing it _here!_ Shit, why do you think I insist on us getting separate hotel rooms, huh? Besides, you can't even cover your ears!"

Shoot unfurled his left sleeve, manifesting his Nen in the form of a birdcage and three extra hands, waggling the latter’s fingers at Knuckle. 

"Ugh, you know what I mean!"

Knuckle stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. The gold fasteners on his jacket winked like struck sparks in the dying sunlight as he paced.

"I'll take the first watch, you get some rest," he said. Shoot could hear the stubborn set of his jaw in every muffled, growling syllable.

"I'm not tired yet. Besides, you're the one who's been moving all day. You must've been down and up the tree at least fifty times petting those strays."

"No, I'm fine! You sleep first!" Knuckle insisted. 

Shoot stared him down impassively, unwilling to take the bait. He knew what would happen if he went to sleep because it had happened before: he'd close his eyes, and the next thing he knew he'd be waking up to the first rays of morning sun and the birds chirping. 

"Knuckle…"

"What? Just go to sleep!" Knuckle had shrugged his shoulders up nearly to his ears, head lowered to his chest. It was too dark to see his face, but Shoot could tell by his tone that Knuckle was blushing. 

Shoot paused, considering. Something had occurred to him — a stupid idea, really. Reckless, especially for him. But something about Knuckle's embarrassment, his _vulnerability_ touched something inside him, filling him with uncharacteristic daring.

"Would you do it if I did it too?"

A choked sound. Knuckle whirled on him. Shoot felt his courage deflate as abruptly as a popped bubble. 

" _What –_ are you _joking_ , Shoot?!"

Now it was Shoot on the defensive. He twisted the sleeve of his yukata in two fingers, unwilling to meet Knuckle's eyes. "N-no. I wasn't…" 

_Why did I even think this was a good idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid-_

"You'd do that for me?"

The blood pounding in his ears made it a little harder to discern Knuckle's tone, but the wonder in his voice hit Shoot like a bullet. He had expected disgust, even rage – not that. 

His first instinct was to argue; no, he wasn't doing it _for_ Knuckle, he was doing it to get him to sleep – but when he really thought about it, how was that any different? 

"It’s not _that_ big a deal," he muttered, trying to convince himself. "We've seen each other naked before."

In fact, they had seen each other naked numerous times in the course of their training with Master Morel. But they both knew nudity was a far cry from what he was suggesting. 

Knuckle seemed to have the same idea. "Yeah, well just cuz you've seen my dick doesn't mean you know what it's like to hear me going at it!" 

With a sigh, Shoot rubbed at the skin of his brow. Knuckle sure had a way with words. Though perhaps he didn't understand the terrible irony; even though he had always insisted on separate rooms, Knuckle couldn't do anything quietly. The thin hotel walls had spared Shoot nothing but the actual sight of his partner's furious evening sessions.

" _What did you just say?!_ "

Oh. Had he said that aloud?

"Well, it's true," Shoot admitted. "You can be quite vocal." And _that_ was putting it delicately _._

With a groan Knuckle slid down into a squat, covering his face in his hands. "Dammit Shoot! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"It really isn't a big deal," Shoot said, shrugging off his partner's mortification. "And, my point is that, well… if you want to do it, it's not going to bother me. I was just offering to make it equally awkward."

A sharp sigh, close to a laugh. "Ah hell, when you put it like that I guess I really don't have a leg to stand on, huh?"

Knuckle rose slowly, and with him came Shoot's reservations. The tone of Knuckle's voice had changed, morphing from chagrin to something like grudging acceptance. It sounded like he was going to say yes – and suddenly Shoot was painfully aware of what that meant.

"Alright, I'll do it."

The soft snap of each fastener sounded as loud as a gunshot, the rustle of Knuckle's overcoat like a roaring gale. Shoot watched, transfixed as Knuckle shrugged his top off, leaving him bare-chested in the purpling dusk. 

He was still watching when Knuckle began to unfasten his belt, only to be pinned by a piercing stare. "Well? You need some help with your robe or something?"

_They were doing this now?!_

Shoot blinked, his face growing hot. "No, just… give me a moment."

He turned away, pulling the tie of his yukata loose as slowly as he dared. His fingers felt thick, unnaturally clumsy. The whiplash of Knuckle's decision had left his mind spinning. This was really happening! 

Unthreading his obi, he coiled it carefully and tucked it in an inner pocket of his yukata. The night breeze caught the fabric, flapping it open to expose his bandaged torso before he yanked it shut. 

Behind him, a dry shuffling and the jingle of metal, like pants being lowered.

Swallowing nervously, Shoot took one quick look back, just in time to see Knuckle hooking his fingers through the band of his underwear and yanking them down.

Heart leaping, he trained his eyes back on the horizon. 

"You almost ready?"

Flinching, Shoot toyed with the waistband of his own shorts. "Um, almost." 

He rubbed himself through the fabric, trying not to think about the intimidating, warm presence of his partner, nearly-naked and exposed less than two feet from him. 

It didn't help. 

If anything, it seemed to do the opposite; inexplicably, his cock began to fill. Another thirty seconds and he was fully hard, tenting his briefs in a way that he hadn't expected. As he peeled them down, he felt Knuckle shift almost eagerly behind him.

Despite his arousal, anxiety plucked at his nerves. He had never done anything like in front of anyone before. Not even close. He'd satisfy himself only behind the securely-locked doors of their hotel rooms, or else in the comfort of his own home. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined doing it in the woods with his training partner. 

_You made the suggestion, idiot!_

What had possessed him? Had the stress of this mission affected his mind even more than he thought? Either way, there wasn't time to ponder it now. Knuckle was waiting.

He turned slowly, hand caged over the swell of his erection until at last they faced each other. Instantly his gaze was drawn downward. Knuckle's pants were around his ankles, his cock jutting proudly into the cool night air.

He'd never seen another man's erection before. With only his own to compare it to his first thought was that Knuckle was _thick_. Intimidating, almost. The kind of girth that for some reason made his mouth water. His own, longer and more slender in comparison seemed much more fragile.

He realized he was staring.

One hard blink was his excuse to avert his eyes. _Fair’s fair_ , he thought, then removed his own hand with the air of a man ascending the gallows.

When he looked up he saw Knuckle's eyes were taking a similar path over his groin; he let them, trying not to shrink under the scrutiny. 

"Ready to do it?" Knuckle asked after a long few seconds. The only indicator that he might be as nervous as Shoot came with the rusty squeak of his first syllable. 

"S-sure."

But he didn't move until Knuckle did. As soon as Knuckle fisted his cock Shoot echoed the motion, tipping his head back to look towards the heavens where the first stars were beginning to emerge.

They stood side-by-side in the gathering darkness. For a while there was nothing but the sounds of their breathing growing steadily harsher and the rustling sounds as cloth rubbed across cloth, then Knuckle broke the silence with his first loud groan.

Shoot looked, then tore his eyes away. It would be rude to stare. Instead he tried to focus on the sensation steadily throbbing through him, on controlling his own breathing.

It didn't work.

Again and again his eye was drawn back to the vee of Knuckle's thighs where his hands worked with alacrity. One was cupping his balls, thumb and forefinger hooked around the base of his erection while the other slid his foreskin up and down in long, smooth strokes. A grunt of pleasure followed each motion.

The sight filled him with an odd hunger. What would it be like, he wondered, to be the one wringing those sounds from Knuckle's throat? He wanted – he _wanted-_

"What're you lookin' at?"

Though his eyes had fluttered shut, something must've tipped Knuckle off to his staring; he was peering through one cracked lid right at Shoot.

Shoot gulped, casting around for an explanation. "Uh, I just – I just wanted to see how you did it, is all." 

He could've smacked himself. Was that really his explanation? 

"No different than you," Knuckle said. He gave his cock a particularly firm stroke, a drop of precome beading on the tip before it was smoothed across the glans by his foreskin. "Unless - hey, do you use your Nen to do it?"

Shoot was still too entranced by the view to realize exactly what Knuckle had said. It took the question a few seconds to penetrate his brain, and when it did he nearly snorted in surprised hilarity. His Nen? He was almost embarrassed that it had never occurred to him.

"What? No!" 

"You should," Knuckle said, voice rough with pleasure. "Wouldn't that be somethin'? Bet it's like havin' someone else touch you. _"_

Somehow, Shoot didn't think so. He still had full control of those hands, after all. But unbeknownst to him, Knuckle had given him the perfect opportunity.

"Would you - would you like me to try it on you?"

Knuckle froze. 

Doubt slammed Shoot like a wave, plunging him into icy panic. This was the third time that night that he'd pushed his boundaries, had misstepped — if this had been a battle, he would have been dead at least ten times over. 

What had stirred this recklessness? It was like something of Knuckle had begun to rub off on him. He didn't know how to handle this new daring.

Knuckle's eyes darted from Shoot's face to the hands currently floating just over his shoulder, then back, considering. Teeth flashed as his face split in a wide, shark-like grin.

"Ah hell, why not? If you really want to." 

Knuckle arrived at his decision with abrupt surety, turning to face Shoot completely. In the first twinkling rays of moonlight he was painted almost completely black, blue shadows caressing every dip and curve of muscle. He was–

_Impulsive? Wild? Incomprehensibly brave?_

_– stunning._

Hardly daring to believe his partner's generosity, it took Shoot a moment before he could marshal his thoughts into coherent commands. He released himself, heedless of his arousal.

One hand drifted towards Knuckle's groin, two of them held back as he debated about where he should put them.

“You're not gonna accidentally trap my dick in there, are you?” Knuckle asked, betraying the first hint of nervousness as the hand approached. He nodded towards Hotel Rafflesia’s cage.

Shoot paused, inches from his target and banished the cage to a lower branch. “No, it shouldn’t. Hotel Rafflesia only activates if I’m doing damage.” Knuckle should know that. They’d had enough experience sparring against each other that each knew the other’s moves nearly as well as their own. Still, Shoot couldn’t fault him; though he’d set the limits of his Nen, he’d never explored it in this way before.

“I know, I know. Just… you know.” Knuckle bleated a brittle laugh. “Don’t want to lose track of this particular bit.” 

_That particular bit_ seemed to have no qualms about the proceedings; Knuckle remained as hard as ever, cock shivering in time with his heartbeat. 

Shoot would know if it activated. He’d feel it like a canary beating at the wires of its gilded cage — still he gave Knuckle a cursory warning. “Just let me know if you lose sensation and I’ll dispel it.”

Carefully, gingerly, he fastened the first hand around the base of Knuckle’s cock, looking up sharply at his partner’s indrawn breath. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Your hand is just a bit colder than mine is all,” Knuckle said, eyes glued on the happenings down below. “It’s weird, but not bad.”

“Where would you like the others?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Do what you want with ‘em, they’re your hands!” 

Shoot considered, then sent the second hand just below the first, cupping Knuckle’s testicles in a mimicry of what he’d seen him do. The third he withdrew. “I’m going to start with two for now.”

“Oh-okay-” Knuckle stuttered as the hand around his cock began to move. “Damn, that’s really- really like someone else touchin’ me-” He spread his thighs a little wider, hands rubbing at the space where his legs met his groin in a rough massage. 

The sight of it sent a pang of lust arrowing through Shoot’s gut, holding him transfixed. 

“Can you go a little tighter?”

He followed Knuckle's adjustments until each stroke sent his partner's eyelids fluttering, a sliver of white sclera flashing like fingernail moons.

So entranced was he by the sight that he almost forgot to tend to himself. This required quite a bit of concentration; moving one hand with steady, firm pressure while maintaining delicate squeezing with the other left him feeling a bit like a man spinning plates. He dared not make a mistake.

In fact, it would be so much easier if he could use his _real_ hand for some of it. His Nen hands weren't very sensitive; they had been designed that way to protect him from distractions during a fight, after all.

He inched towards Knuckle, drawn as if by gravity to the ebb and flow of his moans. 

Knuckle's eyes were firmly shut. Looking at his hand, Shoot wondered if he could exchange his Nen hand for his real one fast enough that Knuckle wouldn't notice. The fretful part of him noted that it was easier to ask forgiveness rather than permission –

They were so close now, it was impossible that Knuckle hadn't noticed his approach.

"Huh?" Dazed eyes peered up at him, and the question flooded from him in a rush:

"Can I try?"

But already his hand was curling around Knuckle. 

_Soft_. 

Despite the iron hardness throbbing beneath his palm, Knuckle's skin was unbelievably delicate, a petal-thin layer of velvet that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. 

"S-sure, if you want…" Knuckle shuddered out a breath as Shoot twisted his wrist in a firm upstroke. "Should I-?" 

His hand made an aborted movement towards Shoot's groin, but Shoot shook his head. "You don't have to."

Truly what mattered most to him at this moment wasn't his own pleasure, but committing to memory the sight before him. 

He should've known Knuckle would have wanted an equal exchange. 

A wide, warm palm enveloped him, wringing a surprised gasp from him. He was being touched without reservation and the sensation was shocking, infinitely more intense than the pleasure brought from his own hand. For a moment the rhythm of his Nen faltered, but he picked it up almost immediately, determined to not be outdone. 

He sent his hands everywhere, the two not working down below wandering across Knuckle's chest, teasing him with light touches and earning yet more pleased sounds.

Oh yes. This was better than anything he'd ever imagined, a kind of intimacy he'd never known before. He'd never thought vulnerability could feel this good.

But deep down an anxious, yammering part of him had its fears. That black core of doubt never really went away. 

_Once this is over, will you be the same?_ it buzzed. _Will Knuckle regret this? Will_ you _regret this?_

He tried to shove the thoughts down. Their lifespans could be measured in days now, it was no use worrying about something so trivial as regret. 

But Knuckle always seemed to sense his fears. Perhaps Shoot had infected him, unconsciously impressing them on his partner.

"Don't you dare t-tell anyone," Knuckle rasped. His lips were drawn in a sneer but his eyes were glassy with pleasure, completely dispelling his threatening aura. "If you do, I'll-I'll–" his voice broke, choked in a gasp.

"Who would I tell?" Shoot panted. He could barely form the words. 

"I- I dunn _nn--nohhhh---"_ Knuckle moaned, loud enough that Shoot could've sworn he heard an echo return from across the valley. 

"Maybe a little quieter," he breathed, biting his own lip to muffle a hiss of pleasure. 

"Can't," Knuckle groaned. "Never been able to…"

"You want the Chimera Ants to find us like this?"

"S-shut me up, then!"

Shoot took that as an invitation, abandoning his steady petting of Knuckle's chest to instead grip the nape of his neck and bent down, bringing their mouths together.

The instant he did, an alarming realization came to him. What if Knuckle had meant for him to just muffle him with a hand? That would've been logical. _Why_ had he been so presumptuous?

But now that he had done it he really had no choice but to go all in. So he did, closing his eyes in a foolish attempt to ward off the explosive reaction he knew must be coming.

But it never did. Instead, Knuckle _attacked._

Knuckle kissed the way he did everything - with gusto. He lunged with his entire body, the hand that wasn't working Shoot's cock wrapping around his back to crush them together so fiercely it squeezed some of the breath from them both. The tip of his pompadour grazed Shoot's temple, like the prow of a ship skirting an iceberg.

Sucking Shoot's bottom lip into the moist cavern of his mouth, he worried it with the sharp edges of his teeth before breaking the kiss for a frantic breath. He gasped, a high-pitch sound clipped in the infinitesimal space between their mouths.

Shoot gave him only a moment before pressing them together again, taking over the kiss. He licked Knuckle's lips, tasting the faint saltiness of his flesh. When Knuckle opened his mouth he swallowed the groans that poured forth, working his Nen even faster.

The slide of them together was intoxicating. Knuckle's warmth was a cocoon, his larger-than-life presence a shield against the dark terrors that awaited in the coming days. Even the incessant hum of anxiety quieted, buried beneath the onslaught of pure physical sensation.

Knuckle rumbled against his mouth, a low litany of curses and moans that fanned the sweet ache in his groin even more than the hand clenching fitfully around his cock. 

Bringing pleasure to others was something he enjoyed, though he rarely admitted it. As a Hunter his pursuits had been selfish, a lone man hunting rare beasts across the globe until a chance meeting with Master Morel had changed his life forever. 

Knuckle was bucking his hips, rocking them with the force of his need. He chased his pleasure without abandon, the kind of unrepentant boldness that Shoot wished he possessed. 

They were so very different.

But Master Morel had seen something of himself in both of them. Shoot thought Knuckle's soft-heartedness was what had inspired his Master, but until this moment he hadn't thought about what his Master had seen in _him._

He was a coward. Always had been. As a child he had been timid and cautious; as an adult, experience had tempered that into evasiveness and reticence. 

But now someone else had entered his lonely sphere. Someone he could call a friend. 

And for his friend he would do anything. 

His aura felt strong, a limitless well that he would draw upon for as long as it took to please Knuckle. Energy flowed through him. Every whimper, every twitch was galvanizing, honing his focus until the world had narrowed to the axis of his pumping hand.

Knuckle made a soft, hungry sound against his lips. His eyes were blazing, lips moist and open as he panted, fists so tightly wound in Shoot's yukata that Shoot could feel the fabric straining at the seams.

"Shoot," he whispered, desperate. "I think I'm gonna come."

Shoot ghosted a kiss across that open mouth. "Go ahead."

Slick heat coated his fist. He held Knuckle as he quaked through his orgasm, milking him through the last shivering bursts and glorifying in the soft, incredible sounds he made. When Knuckle slumped against him, lax and boneless, Shoot dispelled his Nen and took his wet hand away.

Ignoring the desperate throbbing of his own body, Shoot let Knuckle lean against him, watching the sweaty swell of his back as it heaved. At last Knuckle pushed himself upright, smiling up at him in woozy, wolfish delight.

"Damn, that was great! Why haven't we done that before?" 

Surprised by how easily Knuckle accepted what had just happened, Shoot couldn't think of a reply. It was inconceivable. Unimaginable. He dared not think on it too long, lest hope take hold. Instead he let Knuckle stumble away, fumbling for his belt.

Shoot wiped his sticky hand off on his bandaged torso. The mess would dry, crack and flake over the coming days, but no matter. Sooner or later the dressings would likely be covered with something far worse than Knuckle's semen if this battle went the way he thought it might.

He had begun to pull his briefs up when Knuckle noticed.

"Hey! You didn't finish!"

"Hmm?" He looked back, flipping his erection up under his waistband. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's fine."

There was so much to think about now that overshadowed his need. Perhaps once Knuckle finally went to sleep he could think, and take care of himself at the same time…

"The hell it is!"

Knuckle shuffled towards him with alarming speed, not even bothering to pull his pants back up. One hand flashed out, squeezing him. He shuddered at the contact, then shivered again as Knuckle pressed himself firmly against Shoot's back, a warm counterpoint to the chilling air. Knuckle shoved his underwear down again. 

The touch of that calloused palm was electric, sizzling through every nerve so suddenly that he felt weak. Paralyzed, like an animal caught in a shock fence.

"It's your turn now." 

Now it was he who was supported by Knuckle, leaning heavily on his friend's shoulder as his knees went weak.

Shoot hadn't been expecting that. Or the slow careful strokes as Knuckle slid his hand experimentally over his length. He really would've been fine with nothing – but if Knuckle wanted to offer him this kindness, he'd accept it. 

With a soft sigh he closed his fingers over Knuckle's hand, guiding the movements to show how he liked it. And when Knuckle kissed him he let himself moan, just to see what it felt like. Even if it was only for this moment, the way Knuckle was touching him, the closeness he felt... that was more than enough.

It was over far too quickly. Less than five minutes later he was spending himself all over the leaves below, coming so hard he felt light-headed from it. 

"Damn, that was a lot! You sure must've been pent up!" Knuckle exclaimed, examining the white webbing on his hand before wiping his palm on the tree bark. 

Caught between amusement and chagrin at Knuckle's unabashed declaration, Shoot felt his cheeks heat as he refastened his yukata. The tension between them had dissolved, shrinking back into the friendly camaraderie that they'd become so accustomed to. He was content to let it.

"Do you think you can sleep now?" he teased. 

Warm. He was warm inside, feeling both heavy and soft with something nameless.

Knuckle laughed, flopping down on the bough and pillowing his head on one arm. "Shit, you might have to kick me awake!"

"If you insist."

Shoot dodged the lazy punch sent his way then watched as the steady rhythm of his partner's breaths became slower and slower. Soon Knuckle was snoring.

Exhaustion clung to him like a sandbag, weighing down every blink. He had at least four hours of watch left. Even though they were still miles from Peijing he couldn't let down his guard; the Chimera Ant patrols had ranged the entire span of the country, after all.

He refocused his Nen, pinpointing it around his ears until the faint whisper of the wind through the trees was as loud as a spoken voice. Muffling Knuckle's rasping snores with a careful web of Nen, he sat lotus-style beneath the blue moon.

All was quiet in the forest.

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I love these boys.


End file.
